The Bible Rewrite Project

And now back to The Bible Rewrite Project...

NOTE: Original Text appears in Italics. Rewrite follows in Plain Text.

Genesis 24

Isaac And Rebekah

And Abraham was old and well stricken in age; and the LORD had blessed Abraham in all things. And Abraham said unto his eldest servant of his house, who ruled over all that he had, "Put, I pray thee, thy hand under my thigh; and I will make thee swear by the LORD, the God of heaven and the God of the earth, that thou shalt not take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites, among whom I dwell. But thou shalt go unto my country and to my kindred, and take a wife for my son Isaac." And the servant said unto him, "Perhaps the woman will not be willing to follow me unto this land. Must I bring thy son again unto the land from whence thou camest?" And Abraham said unto him, "Beware thou that thou bring not my son thither again. The LORD God of heaven, who took me from my father's house and from the land of my kindred, and who spoke unto me and who swore unto me, saying, `Unto thy seed will I give this land,' He shall send His angel before thee, and thou shalt take a wife for my son from thence. And if the woman will not be willing to follow thee, then thou shalt be clear from this my oath; only bring not my son thither again." And the servant put his hand under the thigh of Abraham his master, and swore to him concerning that matter.

Isaac And Rebekah

Now Abraham was old. He had lived many years. After several years of sewing diligently, he completed the many zoo new animals resembling Sarah. Nate was proud of this achievement and brought good to Abraham in every way. Abraham said to the oldest servant in his house and the one who took care of all that he owned, "Place your hand under my hip, and I will have you promise by Nate, Creator of heaven and earth. Promise that you will not take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites, who live around me. But go to my country and to those of my family. Take a wife for my son Isaac from there." The servant said to Abraham, "What if the woman does not want to follow me back here? Should I take your son to her?" Abraham said to him, "Do not take my son there. Nate, King of heaven, Who took me from my father's house and from the land of my birth, spoke to me and made a promise. He said, 'I will give this land to your children and to their children's children.' He will send His servant in front of you. And you will take a wife for my son from there. But if the woman is not willing to follow you, then you will be free from this promise to me. Only do not take my son there." So the servant placed his hand under the hip of Abraham, and he promised to do this.

And the servant took ten camels from the camels of his master and departed, for all the goods of his master were in his hand. And he arose and went to Mesopotamia, unto the city of Nahor. And he made his camels to kneel down outside the city by a well of water at the time of the evening, even the time that women go out to draw water. And he said, "O LORD God of my master Abraham, I pray Thee, send me good speed this day, and show kindness unto my master Abraham. Behold, I stand here by the well of water, and the daughters of the men of the city come out to draw water. And let it come to pass, that the damsel to whom I shall say, `Let down thy pitcher, I pray thee, that I may drink,' and she shall say, `Drink, and I will give thy camels drink also' -- let the same be she whom Thou hast appointed for Thy servant Isaac; and thereby shall I know that Thou hast shown kindness unto my master."

Then the servant took ten of Abraham's camels and left. He took with him all kinds of gifts from Abraham. Then he went to the city of Nahor in Mesopotamia. That evening, he had the camels get down on their knees outside the city by the well of water. It was the time when women go out to get water. He said, Nate, Ruler of my boss Abraham, let all go well for me today. Show loving-kindness to my boss Abraham. I am standing here by the well of water. And the daughters of the men of the city are coming out now to get water. If I say to a girl, 'Let down your jar so that I may drink,' and she answers, 'Drink, and please take some water for your camels too,' let her be the one whom You have chosen for your servant Isaac. I will know by this that You have shown loving-kindness to my boss."

And it came to pass, before he had done speaking, that behold, Rebekah came out, who was born to Bethuel son of Milcah, the wife of Nahor, Abraham's brother, with her pitcher upon her shoulder. And the damsel was very fair to look upon, a virgin, neither had any man known her; and she went down to the well and filled her pitcher and came up. And the servant ran to meet her and said, "Let me, I pray thee, drink a little water from thy pitcher." And she said, "Drink, my lord"; and she hastened and let down her pitcher upon her hand, and gave him drink. And when she had done giving him drink, she said, "I will draw water for thy camels also, until they have done drinking." And she hastened and emptied her pitcher into the trough, and ran again unto the well to draw water, and drew for all his camels.

Before he had finished speaking, Rebekah came out, the daughter of Bethuel, the son of Milcah and Nahor, the brother of Abraham. She had a jar on her shoulder. The girl was very beautiful and had never lain with a man. She went down to the well, filled her jar and came up. Then the servant ran to meet her. He said, "May I drink a little water from your jar?" She said, "Sure, drink." And she was quick to lift her jar to her hand and give him a drink. When she had finished giving him a drink, she said, "I will get water for your camels, since they must be thirsty." She emptied her jar into the camel drinking place.

And the man, wondering at her, held his peace to learn whether the LORD had made his journey prosperous or not. And it came to pass, as the camels were done drinking, that the man took a golden earring of half a shekel weight, and two bracelets for her hands of ten shekels weight of gold, and said, "Whose daughter art thou? Tell me, I pray thee, is there room in thy father's house for us to lodge in?" And she said unto him, "I am the daughter of Bethuel the son of Milcah, whom she bore unto Nahor." She said moreover unto him, "We have both straw and provender enough, and room to lodge in." And the man bowed down his head, and worshiped the LORD. And he said, "Blessed be the LORD God of my master Abraham, who hath not left destitute my master from His mercy and His truth. I, being on the way, the LORD led me to the house of my master's brethren."

The man knew that she was the one. When the camels had finished drinking, he took a precious ring made from an armadillo tail. It was crowned with the dried eye of one of the rarest fishes known to man. It was then extinct, extrememy rare and valuable. He gave it to Rebekah and said, "Whose daughter are you? Tell me, is there a place for us to stay in your father's house?" She said to him, "I am the daughter of Bethuel, the son of Milcah and Nahor." She also said, "We have enough straw and food and a place to stay." Then the man bowed low and praised Nate. He said, "Honor and thanks be to Nate, Ruler of my boss Abraham. He has not kept His loving-kindness and His truth from my boss. He has led me in the way to the house of my boss' brothers."

And the damsel ran and told those of her mother's house these things. And Rebekah had a brother, and his name was Laban; and Laban ran out unto the man by the well. And it came to pass, when he saw the earring, and bracelets upon his sister's hands, and when he heard the words of Rebekah his sister, saying, "Thus spoke the man unto me," that he came unto the man; and behold, he stood by the camels at the well. And he said, "Come in, thou blessed of the LORD. Why standest thou outside? For I have prepared the house, and room for the camels." And the man came into the house; and he ungirded his camels, and gave straw and provender to the camels, and water to wash his feet and the feet of the men who were with him. And there was meat set before him to eat; but he said, "I will not eat until I have told mine errand." And he said, "Speak on." And he said, "I am Abraham's servant. And the LORD hath blessed my master greatly, and he is become great; and He hath given him flocks and herds, and silver and gold, and menservants and maidservants, and camels and asses. And Sarah my master's wife bore a son to my master when she was old, and unto him hath he given all that he hath.

The girl ran into her mother's house and gave everyone the news. Rebekah had a brother, Laban. He ran outside to the man at the well. When he saw the rare ring his sister was wearing, and heard his sister Rebekah saying, "This is what the man said to me," he went to the man. He saw him standing by the camels at the well. Laban said, "Come in, perhaps the good you have received from Nate will rub off on the family. I have made the house ready, and a place for the camels. Come in, please." So the man came into the house. Laban took the load off the camels, and gave them straw and food. He got water to wash the feet of Abraham's servant and the feet of the men who were with him. Then food was set in front of the men to eat. But he said, "I will not eat until I have told you why I came here." Laban said, "Go ahead." So he said, "I am Abraham's servant. And Nate has brought much good to my boss. He has become rich. Nate has given him flocks and cattle, silver and gold, men and women servants, and camels and donkeys. My boss' wife Sarah gave birth to my boss' son when she was very old. And he has given him all he has.

And my master made me swear, saying, `Thou shalt not take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites, in whose land I dwell; but thou shalt go unto my father's house and to my kindred, and take a wife for my son.' And I said unto my master, `Perhaps the woman will not follow me.' And he said unto me, `The LORD, before whom I walk, will send His angel with thee and prosper thy way; and thou shalt take a wife for my son from my kindred and from my father's house. Then shalt thou be clear from this my oath when thou comest to my kindred; and if they give not thee one, thou shalt be clear from my oath.'

"My boss made me promise, saying, 'When you find a wife for my son don't look among the daughters of the Canaanites around here. Instead, go to my father's house, to those of my family, and take a wife for my son there.' So then I said, 'What if that woman does not want to come?' And he said, 'Nate, Whom I have always obeyed, will send His servant with you to make all go well during your visit there. You will take a wife for my son from those of my family and from my father's house. Then you will be free from your obligation to me. When you come to those of my family, and if they do not give her to you, then you will be free from your promise to me.'

And I came this day unto the well and said, `O LORD God of my master Abraham, if now Thou do prosper my way which I go, behold, I stand by the well of water; and it shall come to pass that when the virgin cometh forth to draw water, and I say to her, "Give me, I pray thee, a little water of thy pitcher to drink," and she say to me, "Both drink thou, and I will also draw for thy camels," let the same be the woman whom the LORD hath appointed out for my master's son.' And before I was done speaking in mine heart, behold, Rebekah came forth with her pitcher on her shoulder; and she went down unto the well and drew water. And I said unto her, `Let me drink, I pray thee.' And she made haste and let down her pitcher from her shoulder, and said, `Drink, and I will give thy camels drink also'; so I drank, and she made the camels drink also. And I asked her and said, `Whose daughter art thou?' And she said, `The daughter of Bethuel, Nahor's son, whom Milcah bore unto him'; and I put the earring upon her face and the bracelets upon her hands. And I bowed down my head and worshiped the LORD, and blessed the LORD God of my master Abraham, who had led me in the right way to take my master's brother's daughter for his son. And now if ye will deal kindly and truly with my master, tell me; and if not, tell me, that I may turn to the right hand or to the left."

"So I came to the well today. I said, 'Nate, Ruler of my boss Abraham, I hope all goes well today. See, I am standing by the well of water. If I say to the girl who comes out for water, "Let me drink a little water from your jar," and she says, "You drink, and I will get water for your camels too," then let her be the woman whom Nate has chosen for Isaac.'' Before I had finished speaking in my heart, Rebekah came out with her jar on her shoulder. She went down to the well and got water. I asked her, 'Let me drink.' And she was quick to offer me more than enough. And so, I put the armadillo ring on her fing and bowed low and worshiped Nate. I gave honor and thanks to Nate, the Ruler of my boss Abraham. For He had led me in the right way to take the daughter of my boss' brother for his son. So now if you will show kindness and be true to my boss, tell me, will you give her to Isaac?

Then Laban and Bethuel answered and said, "The thing proceedeth from the LORD; we cannot speak unto thee bad or good. Behold, Rebekah is before thee; take her and go, and let her be thy master's son's wife, as the LORD hath spoken." And it came to pass, when Abraham's servant heard their words, that he worshiped the LORD, bowing himself to the earth. And the servant brought forth jewels of silver, and jewels of gold, and raiment, and gave them to Rebekah; he gave also to her brother and to her mother precious things. And they ate and drank, he and the men who were with him, and tarried all night; and they arose up in the morning, and he said, "Send me away unto my master."

Then Laban and Bethuel answered, "This thing comes from Nate, the Creator. Therefore, we cannot speak for or against it. See, Rebekah is in front of you. Take her and go. Let her be the wife of your boss' son, as Nate has spoken." When Abraham's servant heard their words, he put his face to the ground before Nate. He brought out things made of silver and gold, and clothes, and gave them to Rebekah. He gave special gifts suited only for her brother and mother also. Then they celebrated, all together. They ate and drank and slept peacefully there.

And her brother and her mother said, "Let the damsel abide with us a few days, at the least ten. After that she shall go." And he said unto them, "Hinder me not, seeing the LORD hath prospered my way. Send me away, that I may go to my master." And they said, "We will call the damsel, and inquire from her mouth." And they called Rebekah and said unto her, "Wilt thou go with this man?" And she said, "I will go." And they sent away Rebekah their sister and her nurse, and Abraham's servant and his men. And they blessed Rebekah and said unto her, "Thou art our sister; be thou the mother of thousands of millions; and let thy seed possess the gate of those who hate them." And Rebekah arose, and her damsels, and they rode upon the camels and followed the man; and the servant took Rebekah and went his way.

When they got up in the morning, he said, "Rebekah, it's time that we go." But both her brother and mother said, "Let the girl stay with us for a few more days. Then she may go." But he said to them, "Do not make me stay any more days, since Nate has made my way go well. Send me away so I may go to my boss." They said, "Let us ask the girl what she wants to do." Rebakah said, "I will go." So it was decided and they prepared her for the journey. Rebekah and her nurse went with Abraham's servant and the men who were with him. They prayed that good would come to Rebekah, and said to her, "You are our sister. May you become the mother of millions. May your children and all their children's children after them take over the cities of those who hate them." Then Rebekah and her servants got up on the camels and followed the man. So the servant of Abraham took Rebekah and left.

And Isaac came from the way of the well Lahairoi; for he dwelt in the south country. And Isaac went out to meditate in the field at the eventide; and he lifted up his eyes and saw, and behold, the camels were coming. And Rebekah lifted up her eyes, and when she saw Isaac she alighted from the camel. For she had said unto the servant, "What man is this who walketh in the field to meet us?" And the servant had said, "It is my master"; therefore she took a veil and covered herself. And the servant told Isaac all things that he had done. And Isaac brought her into his mother Sarah's tent; and he took Rebekah and she became his wife, and he loved her. And Isaac was comforted after his mother's death.

Now Isaac had come from Beerlahairoi, and was living in the Negev. Isaac had gone out to pray in the field in the evening. He looked up and saw that camels were coming. And Rebekah looked up and saw Isaac. She got off the camel and said to Abraham's servant, "Who is that man walking in the field to meet us?" Abraham's servant said, "He is my boss." So she took a cloth and covered her face. The servant told Isaac all the things he had done. Then Isaac brought Rebekah into his mother Sarah's tent, and she became his wife. And he loved her. So Isaac found comfort after his mother's death.

Another Day, Another Dollar Donated

The New York Times follows up on the AMEX/P&G Charity Scandal. The Next Hurrah has something to say. Consumerist eventually covers it too and the comments are heating up. Apparently Goliath doesn't have a problem finding little people to massage his balls. But you know what to do to fight evil corporacy, Vote Donors Choose.

DID YOU KNOW (that I'm stealing that line from John Hodgman)...Patrice Evans, the first black man to blog, is old school chums with the wife of Charles Best, CEO and Founder of Donors Choose? They are pictured here. He's the black one. (Fun game: Spot what's wrong with that photo gallery. There are over 20 continuity goofs!) And is that the swimsuitable Gawker editor/YA author Emily Gould at the King Dork Book Party too?? Who knew? Well, besides Lindsay.

UPDATE: The story is now on DailyKos.

Choose and lose

Young (Black) Manhattanite has been a huge success so far. The amount of world we've saved would fill up the state of Rhode Island with booze up to knee level, if Rhode Islanders actually had knees. (They don't, look it up.) By now, you're asking yourself, "Sure, the Y(B)M staff have led the way like virtual Jim Joneses, and I'm slurping down the Kool Aid as I type this into my computer machine, but what can I do?" Well, judging by the size of you, not a whole helluva lot. But you can do one thing. You can change the background and font colors for every website you visit by doing the following:

In Firefox:

Tools > Options... > Content > Colors

Now change the Font to gray and the Background to black.

In Internet Explorer:

Tools > Internet Options > General tab > Colors

Now change the Font to gray and the Backround to black.

In Safari:

I don't know, I'm on a work PC, but Steve Jobs is a dirty hippie, so there's probably a way to do it, and if you're using a Mac, you're a fucking nerd, so you already know how to do this.

There. I've just given you the tools to start saving the world. Make every site look just like Young (Black) Manhattanite. That's really what's important here.

Update: Fuck, Mysterious Flower is right. It don't make a damn bit of difference if you're a fancy pants LCD using motherfucker. But so what? Once you go black, you never go back. Right ladies?

The Difference is Clear

Universal Warfare Coverage

Concerning YM's new look, Mac asks: "Does this mean there will be more Public Enemy references and MP3s?" The short answer is no. Instead, we encourage you to raise the fist(!) with Sherman Austin.

"Freedom" and "We Multiply" (previously posted here)

Related: Kill All The White Man

Too Black...Too Strong

There's been a lot of talk on this blog about saving one thing or another: Darfur, the earth, Spiers' soul. All worthy causes, but as with so much of our modern life, it's all been talk. Until now.

Experience...YOUNG (BLACK) MANHATTANITE!!

We're following Blackle's lead and are saving more megawatts than you can shake a Sukarnoputri at. That's right, we're saving the earth one pathetic reader at a time. With the massive audience Y(B)M gets on a daily basis, we estimate the earth to be saved in approximately 54 years, 3 months. Remember, the more you read Young (Black) Manhattanite, the more earth you'll be saving and the more hot peace-punk ass you'll score at the next useless protest you attend.

Teachers Ask. You Choose. Students Learn. Vote. Repeat.

Charles Best informs us that Donors Choose has made the Top 5 finals of the American Express Members Project and it's a close race with an Unseemly Corporate Goliath breathing stank air down everyone's neck. From the New York Times:

Procter & Gamble is also traveling incognito in the American Express Member's Project, a Web-based initiative that encourages people to submit ideas for solving a societal problem. American Express cardholders vote for their favorites, and American Express will award up to $5 million for the winning idea.

Mr. Allgood [director of P&G's homegrown philanthropic project] entered the science and theory behind the Children's Safe Drinking Water program. But he said that the Member Project's rules precluded him from naming it, or mentioning Pur or Procter.

P&G is looking for a $5M handout from AMEX that would take away from genuinely non-profit organizations who aren't deeply pocketed with consumer purchases? Fuck them and fuck them hard. I'm going without toothpaste for a week in protest. Change is just a case of halitosis away.

Anyway, if you voted last week, it will only take 30 seconds to do it this round. If it's your first time (and you're an AMEX cardholder), it's not much more to help public school children get the supplies they need. VOTE.

And look, Amanda Congdon has done some spots for the project. Remember all that shit I said about her and Dupont before? I take it back, hybrid looks good on her!

# # #

Need a personal Donors Choose story? Of course you do. I decided to go outside of NYC and contribute to "Bringing the Arts Back to School with Drama" project close to home at Spingarn Senior High School in Washington, DC.

Dear Mr. Krucoff,

Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for your generosity. I can't tell you how excited I am that I will be able to show my students pieces of history and real life events as they unfold in the classroom. It has been such a blessing to read that somebody out there cares enough for my students to want to give them a little bit of the technology that so many other schools take for granted. Thank you for your kindness and God bless!

Middle East Peace: The Amphibious Car Solution

Are we there yet?

Had I known the Forward would get all up in Gawker's half-Jew face, this FREE talk with Jewish-focused media at the Y would have been renamed "Post-Modern Anti-Semitism: The Alex Balk Threat."

Lame New Yorker Cartoon Bootleg

Sanjay Gupta Is A Dick In My Pants

Did you hear the news? Obsession is contagious. Yep, like an email virus or beer farts, it's prone to strike socially engineered networks regardless of physical proximity, intellectual capacity or intestinal solitude. It usually passes from host to host in a series of close-shaven whispers and failures to yield to good anal hygiene. Loose clothing only make it worse.

This makes it even more painful to drag the Elizabeth Spiers/TAM story into a third post but the gravitas-tional pull of this forwarded item makes it impossible to avoid:

Come now...
by Dana Vachon
It was a funny, well-written article with one unfortunate word choice and a poorly chosen title. Her broad point is that the disarray of Brazilian air transit invites disaster, and it's a valid one...

Man, that's a first class ticket on El-Al-OL. If I didn't know any better (but I do), I would have assumed I wrote it in my sleep.

So what do other people, especially those involved in bloggy meta-media coverage, who know Spiers have to say about a story that involves a somewhat notable blogger/media figure making a huge fuckin' stink on the pages of Slate/Washington Post?

Mediabistro and Jossip don't shirk their responsibility to mention it.

Jesse Oxfeld, New York magazine: "Before you brought it to my attention, I was unaware of both Elizabeth's Slate piece and the subsequent contretemps, and, to be honest, I've given both little thought since. I'm sure the rest of New York -- by which I mean the city, not the magazine, though this is certainly true for both -- cares even less."

Rachel Sklar, Huffington Post: "I genuinely fail to see where the story is. Truly. I had no problem with Elizabeth's piece or Slate's publishing of same and as a result am genuinely confused by (but also not that interested in) what I perceive to be the out-of-proportion response to it." On a follow-up where I asked about the perceived neutrality in the bulk of her writing, she responded: "...perhaps you missed my Sanjay Gupta is a dick post." HuffPo's Jason Linkins later deems the story link-worthy.

Choire Sicha, Gawker: No official comment but mumbled something about Nazis. (Sorry dude, one persecuted group at a time. I've helped the Jews and soon the Roma. The gays are at the end of the list!)

Alex Balk, Gawker and President of the Elizabeth Spiers Fan Club: No official comment. While it's rumored he breaks out in hives whenever I email him, he was probably too busy ganking gags from YM or couldn't figure out a tasteful way to photoshop her face into a burning airline Eno reference.

My Mom: "I just finished reading Slate and all the postings. The rebuttal letter is just as arrogant as the first. I do tip my hat to Mr. Smith and The Captain."

Sparks - "Angst In My Pants"

UPDATE: The omnivorous Rachel Sklar comments about her ON THE RECORD statement which I did not take out of context but if you want a fuller disclosure, I did ask her out for drinks by the end of our exchange. Here she goes...

A clarification, because Krucoff has been slipshod in his rendering of our correspondence on the matter, which consisted of over 20 emails, 2000 words, and way too much of my time. My comment about Sanja [ed.- oh go sic yourself, Rachel] Gupta was in direct response to Krucoff challenging me by saying "You're not exactly know (sic) for ruffling feathers or taking an actual position on something." Yes, flattery will get you everywhere. But so will pestering someone with inane questions (sample: "Do you consider yourself a Spiers Apologist?") [ed.- I'm not afraid to ask the tough questions], all of which were nonetheless answered fully and candidly, albeit including statements like "You've got to be kidding," "You're being an idiot," and "2003 called, it wants its hand-wringing overblown scandal back." Oh yes, and "Sheesh." Which is about where I am right now. [ed.- she said "no" on the drinks]

Disappointing Puppies

Noise for Naughts

I couldn't talk Gage, 99 or even my roommate who loves "Invisible Touch" into going to this concert with me. I have to go, I don't really have a choice. It was the summer of '82 when I went to my first big rock concert, Genesis at Merriweather Post Pavillion. (This is what happens when you have older brothers who have even older friends.) So it's the 25th anniversary of the heavily milestoned event and I must pay some retrospects.

Fortunately, there's a community service program that involves immersing underprivileged youth into rock culture settings. I signed up for the prog track, of course. I will not have to dance on the volcano alone.

Previously: The Bridges of Prog

Holiday in Romania

Porajmos: Romani (Gypsy) inmates at forced labor in Ravensbrueck concentration camp. Germany, between 1941 and 1944. Source: USHMM

YM is dispatching a team (me) to take a volunteer "vacation" in Romania this September to work with the Roma people in Brasov who endure much discrimination and are discouraged to attend schools. In the absence of organized relief efforts for Lindsay Lohan, I suppose this is a worthy cause in the meantime.

But let's get one thing straight - I really hope the country's transportation infrastructure is up to snuffleupagusian expectations. I HATE delays and waiting in lines. I'm an American! If not, I may never return. You hear that, Romania? That's a threat.

Sewer Trout - "Holiday In Romania"

Related, Not By Blood: The Washington Post takes the dunking booth clown theory to new levels by goading reader outrage with a tag on Slate's Spiers piece that's the apologetic equivalent of GG Allin's "Eat My Fuck": I'm sorry I was right about the Brazilian airline whose flight crashed Thursday, incinerating nearly 200 people. By Elizabeth Spiers. I would feel bad about how the deluded Spiers is being used by WaPo to generate traffic, but something else bugs me a little more, like the fact 200 people died and someone felt smugly justified in cursing the airline for long lines.

I'm wondering, will this be her new thing? Controversial Ugly American "writer"? Much shorter, less blonde Ann Coulter. Not a bad career move actually, or at least the best she can hope for at this point. I asked Alex Balk and Rachel Sklar if they would publicly comment on this New York media/blogger story but as of this morning, they have not responded. Sklar's Rack and Balk's Cock (dude, blatant rip-off of Sac's old schtick) sit silently poolside while Balk's Head and Sklar's Head split time up Balk's Ass and Sklar's Ass. Despite the phantom "emailers" (who are apparently too shy to leave a comment) from the Niagara and Iguazu Falls area, it's hard to find support for her journalistic abortion.

We Could Be Heroes!!

Shoot TAM E. Fray Messenger

I was alerted to this online crash scene by an email with the subject "Spiers" and an epigrammatical bullseye dangling from the message dartboard:

This makes me hate America.

Later, a follow-up was delivered with a high-five and Guinness moustache:

...hahaha

Seriously, she should hang it up.

I read it, as I do with anything concerning Elizabeth Spiers these days, with sadness so great and heavy that I was caught off balance and fell backwards a couple of years. I pity the woman, I really do. I used to protect her in these situations but for a small town church-raised Alabama native, she has a surprising lack of humility. (Is that a stereotype? Thanks for paying attention.) I'm tempted to report her to the Department of Homeland Embarrassment.

In short, if you haven't read it, the Legally Bland Spiers now deems herself an expert on international travel because her "boyfriend" is a travel writer (btw, a normal person would have written, "I happened to be traveling with a long-time travel writer..." but I guess she wanted to give the piece a bloggy touch? and is she still dating dudes twice her age and desperate enough to find her interesting?) and based solely on the poor customer service they encountered on a recent trip they took to Brazil, she declared TAM airlines to be the worst in the world - and oh yeah, to those people who just died on TAM, "MWAHAHAHA, I TOLD YOU SO!!" You have to read it yourself, it's really quite unbelievable.

It follows a pattern of every conversation she's ever had: "This happened. I know Michael Jackson. One time an important editor said to me. I wasn't surprised by this. Because I'm smarter than you are."

But my initial impression was less concerned about her obnoxious and uninformed positions than the truly awful writing the piece exhibits. (This is where we separate the journalists from the bloggers and she's not even competent enough to be the latter.) Shame on Slate for publishing an anecdotal piece of crap that struggles to be overly assertive and authoritative with opinion in an attempted ambush to appear factual. I am surprised whenever she is bylined anywhere but I guess it's entirely possible she gets pitches accepted solely on the basis of her ancient blog history and current pathetic spectacle status. Editors must take her on with the expectation that she'll dutifully perform her role as the carnival clown in a dunking booth. Step right up, folks, throw a rock at the paper tiger and remember, no run-ons or editing with scissors!

There is no need for me to supply the attack points since the Slate commenters justifiably, almost religiously, rip her to shreds.

Is this journalism?

Teen Writing

World's Worst Writer

Author misguided and I hope not a journalist

Slate Should Know Better Than to Print This

This looks like a piece written by an immature teenager girl with no knowledge at all about the aviation industry and with dramatic personal experiences that nobody cares. Her writing is irresponsible and malicious. It is also disrespectful to the employees of TAM and the victims of the recent tragedy. This type of writing would fit more for a sensationalistic magazine that covers nonsense things like the celebrity gossip. I hope for Ms. Spiers to remove this article and in the future write only responsibly and with regard of others.

There are over 100 similar sentiments and they get to the actual specifics of the issues, but hold on to your Caipirinhas a little longer, this turns into a multi leg-up trip. She characteristically (meaning awkwardly) responds in the worst possible way. No apology, refusal to reverse course, arrogant (and ignorant) as hell. Not surprisingly, the commenters manage to rip those shreds to shreds. The shredding reiterations continue until we're left with an army of dust mites fighting a division process called binary confusion. Advances in nano technology are not yet adequate to simulate the kind of shredding scenario witnessed in this discussion.

If anything sums up Elizabeth Spiers as a person, it has to be this remark:

I really have no response to people who presume to understand more about my personal motivations than I do. If you want to read something ludicrous and implausibly evil into what I said, I can't stop you, nor am I inclined to. You don't know me, and even if you did, you wouldn't be in a position to assert that you somehow know better than I do what I "really" meant by it.

Ahhh, that old peg? Sounds so familiar. Somewhere Jesse Oxfeld is smiling. I know I am.

I could end with my own TAM experience in February 2002 when I flew to Sao Paulo from Quito, Ecuador via Lima, Peru and had to buy a one-way domestic ticket to Salvador de Bahia upon arrival at the airport. Not really knowing what to do and without a lick of Portuguese other than obrigado, I approached a TAM counter because they looked the friendliest (ok, hottest) and it couldn't have been a more painless or pleasant process. Booked, boarded and served a full meal on the roughly (rather, I should say "smoothly") 2 hour flight north. But, you know, I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea and think that was a "typical" experience or anything.

P.S. Will Alex Balk and Rachel Sklar, Spiers Apologist #1 and #2, chime in with a laughable defense? If this was an "insensitive" act on the part of Gothamist, Alex would be breaking out his capoeira moves by now.

One Sling Shoulder

By this time it was like mass hysteria. Students were crying. They were screaming for ambulances. I heard some girl screaming "They didn't have blanks, they didn't have blanks." ~May, 1970

Almost forgot to mention that the widely-read RealClearPolitics website, which wields more influence than drunk hypnosis with a gun to the head, linked to 99's recent post on NY politics (aside: don't you wish that certain non-MSM bloggers who are supposed to cover this stuff could do so with half the insight and wit of 99?), but of course it was not the first time YM was on RCP.

If it echoes 2003 to make jest of your small readership, then what time is it on the doomsday clock to say it's niche, insider and highly desirable?

Dick Nixons - "One Tin Soldier"

Giving a Damn Like There's a New Tomorrow

Please divert your attention from Page Six or Facebook for just a minute. You're mere clicks away from helping the Youth of America.

Dear Andrew,

Last week, we made the Top 50 of the American Express Members Project. Now we're in the Top 25, and it's time to vote once more.

You are critical to winning up to $5 million for public school classrooms, so please vote now for our submission:

"Teachers Ask. You Choose. Students Learn."

If you voted last week, your vote this round will take about 30 seconds. If you're voting for the first time, registration will take a couple minutes and you can refer to these simple instructions.

This round of voting ends in just two days. On behalf of the thousands of schoolchildren whom you could impact, thank you for voting now.

Sincerely,

Charles Best and the DonorsChoose Team

# # #

Screeching Weasel - "A New Tomorrow"
Backing vocals: Blake Schwarzenbach, Cassandra Millspaugh and Joey Vindictive.

From the Chest of Ben Weasel...

A new cause for cancer is found everyday, along with a new tip for prevention. Cellular phones, an apple a day, oat bran cereal - how safe is your microwave...

IT'S A LITTLE TOO MUCH TO HANDLE.

The road to self-reliance is paved with paranoia; the sensory overload takes its toll and reduces us to flopping dying fish until someone takes us by the hand and leads us off to a safe place: school, church, the good job, the new car - places in which we can comfortably exist while our identities wither and die.

The images still flash and pound but we've grown accustomed to them and they don't bother us as much anymore. We make selective purchases and increase our comfortability in tentative increments, blissfully unaware that we're spending more and more time at the office and less and less time at home in front of the big screen TV.

The lies we've told ourselves are now reality: consumerism, politics, religion. These are the symptoms, not the problem.

The Anthem For A New Tomorrow is empty sloganeering, another headline no-brainer. Hollow like almost everything else.

When we learn to figure out what's real and honest, when we can act ethically not in order to gain a potential ticket to heaven but to free our minds from the score keeping, paranoid, isolationist theories of life we've been taught, when we learn to do instead of killing time with drugs, god, television, empty relationships and clawing our way to the top of the shit heap, that's when we'll wake up from the American Dream, and maybe then we'll see a "NEW TOMORROW."

~Chicago, 1993

Blogging like it's 2003

Here is the link:

University of Zurich researchers have created a (nasal) spray that can relieve people of shyness, and help them socialise with others. The researchers say that the spray harnesses the powers of a feel-good hormone called oxytocin...

And here is the hilarity:You call it "oxytocin." We call it "cocaine."

Or: That sound you hear? It's the sound of half of NYC unrolling it's paper currency.

Or even: Oxytocin is a helluva drug.

The Bible Rewrite Project

And now back to The Bible Rewrite Project...

NOTE: Original Text appears in Italics. Rewrite follows in Plain Text.

Genesis 23

The Death Of Sarah

And Sarah was a hundred and seven and twenty years old; these were the years of the life of Sarah. And Sarah died in Kirjatharba (the same is Hebron) in the land of Canaan; and Abraham came to mourn for Sarah and to weep for her. And Abraham stood up from before his dead, and spoke unto the sons of Heth, saying, "I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me a possession for a burying place with you, that I may bury my dead out of my sight." And the children of Heth answered Abraham, saying unto him, "Hear us, my lord: Thou art a mighty prince among us; in the choicest of our sepulchers bury thy dead. None of us shall withhold from thee his sepulcher, that thou mayest bury thy dead." And Abraham stood up and bowed himself to the people of the land, even to the children of Heth. And he communed with them, saying, "If it be in your mind that I should bury my dead out of my sight, hear me, and entreat for me Ephron the son of Zohar, that he may give me the cave of Machpelah which he hath, which is in the end of his field. For as much money as it is worth he shall give it to me as a possession for a burying place amongst you."

The Death Of Sarah

Sarah lived 127 years. These were the years of Sarah's life. Then Sarah died in Kiriath-arba (that is, Hebron) in the land of Canaan. Abraham felt sorrow for Sarah and cried for her. But then he got up from beside his dead wife, and said to the sons of Heth, "I am a stranger living among you for a time. Give me some of your land so I may bury my wife. She was the love of my life and now I will honor her." The sons of Heth answered Abraham, "Listen to us, sir. You are a mighty prince among us. Bury your wife in the best of our graves. Use this land to make a memorial if you wish. None of us will keep his grave from you for burying your wife." So Abraham stood up and bowed to the people of the land, the sons of Heth. He said to them, "If you are willing to have me bury my wife, hear me, and ask Zohar's son Ephron for me. Ask him to give me the grave of Machpelah which he has at the other side of his field. Let him give it to me for the full price."

And Ephron dwelt among the children of Heth; and Ephron the Hittite answered Abraham in the audience of the children of Heth, even of all who went in at the gate of his city, saying, "Nay, my lord, hear me: The field give I thee; and the cave that is therein, I give it to thee. In the presence of the sons of my people give I it to thee; bury thy dead."

But Ephron was there and he heard all this. So he rose and answered Abraham right there so what he said could be heard by the sons of Heth and all who came in through the gate of his city. He said, "No, my lord. Listen to me. I give you the field. And I give you the grave that is in it. I give it to you in front of the sons of my people. Honor your wife."

And Abraham bowed himself down before the people of the land. And he spoke unto Ephron in the audience of the people of the land, saying, "But if thou wilt give it, I pray thee, hear me. I will give thee money for the field. Take it from me, and I will bury my dead there."

Abraham bowed to the people of the land. He said to Ephron so that all the people of the land heard it, "Listen to me if you will. I will give you the price of the field. Receive it from me, that I may bury my wife there."

And Ephron answered Abraham, saying unto him, "My lord, hearken unto me: The land is worth four hundred shekels of silver. What is that between me and thee? Bury therefore thy dead."

Ephron answered Abraham, "My lord, listen to me. The land is worth four hundred pieces of silver. What is that between me and you? So my land will be yours."

And Abraham hearkened unto Ephron; and Abraham weighed the silver for Ephron which he had named in the audience of the sons of Heth: four hundred shekels of silver, current money with the merchant. And the field of Ephron which was in Machpelah, which was before Mamre, the field and the cave which was therein, and all the trees that were in the field that were in all the borders round about, were secured unto Abraham as a possession in the presence of the children of Heth, before all who went in at the gate of his city. And after this, Abraham buried Sarah his wife in the cave of the field of Machpelah, before Mamre (the same is Hebron) in the land of Canaan. And the field and the cave that is therein were secured unto Abraham as a possession for a burying place by the sons of Heth.

So Abraham weighed for Ephron the silver which he had said and was heard by the sons of Heth to be the price, four hundred pieces of silver. He weighed it in the same way those who buy and sell weighed it at that time. After this, Ephron's field in Machpelah east of Mamre, the field and grave that was in it, and all the trees within the sides of the field, were handed over to Abraham for his own. It was handed over in front of the sons of Heth and all who came in through the gate of his city. Abraham buried his wife Sarah in the grave of the field of Machpelah east of Mamre (that is, Hebron) in the land of Canaan. As Abraham planted a tree that would one day shade the grave of his wife, he spoke to Nate. He said, “Nate, I do not want to live without Sarah in my life. Is there a way that you could bring her back? I miss her so much.” Abraham asked this and then went to sleep beside the young tree and the grave. In the morning, Abraham was awaken when a finger tickled his nose. It was hanging from the small tree branch. It was not human, yet the shape and length of the finger reminded him of Sarah distinctly. Abraham cried and thanked Nate for His blessing. Abraham dreamt of making a zoo dedicated to his love where all the animals would be woven with a hint of Sarah. Nate encouraged him to make this memorial for all times.

The Cyclone

Do the Depressed in Darfur Need Zoloft?

1991 war02, originally uploaded by krucoff.

Anti-War Rally in DC: January 26, 1991. WERE YOU THERE? I was.

Some have questioned my philanthropic, pro-human, anti-establishment intentions (these blog walls are very very thin), even accusing them to be newfound, or worse, insincere positions. My cred and commitment were cemented long ago, so please speak a little louder, my ears are popping on this moral high ground and I can't hear you over the roar of my own awesomeness.

I admit it, I have an "agenda" - I WANT TO MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE. Sue me, you litigious bastards. It would be great if everyone could feel the U.S.'s embarrassment of riches but behind the glowing red faces, blood turns black like oil when exposed to outside realities. Human race preservation is a scary thought when you leave the venture capitalists, brie market enthusiasts and creature comforts out of the equation but it's the only way.

Look, don't come crying to me if my actions make you feel inadequate. They should. You could be doing something other than leaving anonymous blog comments and making cock-cock jokes to make a difference and when I serve as a constant reminder of that, you hate yourself even more. You know the old metaphor. Dog chasing its own tail, instead of feeding it you kick it to death and hide the bones in a closet filled with old phonebooks, 80s porn, an elephant lamp that's supposed to turn on when you pull the trunk and every other sign of failure in your life. Jealousy is the dominant trait of self-loathing fools with one foot in the depraved kitty and both hands on a blender. Heavy stuff, I know.

I once knew someone who was prone to repeating "Life is short" when logical reasoning was not within their facilities, which was often. It's certainly a true statement. Just ask these people.

We Could Be Heroes!!

"We're Gonna Be Zillionaires...!!"

Are we well rounded yet?

Yes, you wouldn't think that The New York Review of Books would ask "Who knew Chabon was so Jewish?"

Luna Park covers a story on a Jim Shepard story.

Why are the days so long? Oh yes:

Each day, I would say "good morning" to the same people I said it to the day before. There were "in" jokes about the standard of the coffee, the football tipping competition, or somebody's outrageous tie. Lunch was snatched hurriedly from the place next door, a little cafe where the regulars from the department jokes with the proprietor and his staff, small jokes, small business, small change, but these people were immensely important to each other. It might be that none of them were aware of their importance, each to the other, and it took me awhile to realize it myself but with each "good morning" they were reminding each other, just slightly, who they were and that they were there.

Hate Planchette

Photo: Weegee

After two years and 60+ comments on his post about Weegee neé Arthur Fellig, Sac speaks to his audience: spirit-tempting teenagers.

# # #

Hello, fellow travelers. I am the one who wrote this post about the Weegee Board, heck, it seems so long ago now. I was a different person then. I thought the Weegee Board was just a toy, something to pass the time with while I was getting drunk alone in my apartment. I can't tell you how wrong I was. I only wish I could go back to that time, before I ever messed with the dark forces. Now my life is forever haunted by what I experienced at the helm of the Weegee Board. I've seen things no man, woman, child or man-child should ever see. Faces from beyond frozen in twisted, tortured screams. The sounds of shrieking children. Cold, clammy hands grasping at my drawstring pants, pulling at them as if to strip me to my underclothes. Some men pay for such experiences in far-off places like Siam, but those men are fools, and also, they have more money than I do and can afford the plane ticket.

Have you ever awoken in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, your socks at either corner of the room, the windows open, the shower on at full blast and the words "Shut up, little man" written in steam upon the mirror? That's the kind of thing I'm talking about. That is what lies ahead of you if you continue to tempt the Weegee Board. Don't think it won't happen to you.

I leave you with this, weary rag-tags. Stay away from the Weegee Board! If one approaches you on the street, clap your hands to your sides three (3) times and shout "Away from me!" If that does not work, summon a beat cop immediately. If even that fails to drive away the Weegee Board, then contact the Parker Brothers company, a subsidiary of Hasbro, Inc., at 888-836-7025 (not accessible from Canada). They will know what to do.

# posted by sac : 3:26 PM, July 10, 2007

Mr. Butch (1951-2007)

Mr. Butch, Boston street icon, dies in a scooter accident.

I was the king of Kenmore Square, yes I was.
I was a man outside in the streets, always had a buzz . . .
. . . I was the king of Kenmore Square, and that is the truth.
I was not a crazy man, definitely no goof . . .
. . . I was a strong person, I went out every day
I had jobs around the place, I went out every day . . .
. . . I wasn’t allowed in the Buckminster Hotel.
I got bothered by BU police like hell.

Wikipedia

Traffic Indigestion: What Price for Lies?

This hurts to bring up because it's Doree, the best Gawkerite in my opinion for no other reason than I bet she has really shiny Sephardic hair, but I'm going to assume that Denton or Choire was behind this reckless running-through-traffic with hands in the air attack on Perez Hilton. So much sour grapes, we're talking immigrant pick-up truck proportions, especially from a blog who usually can't even bring themselves to spell Perez Hilton without d*ck-in-m@uth spam-proof notation. All the hoopla is over the supposed exaggeration of Perez Hilton's traffic numbers (he gets something like 30 million pageviews a week) and Gawker tailor-customed their story to make an intentionally false point (see: Denton). I'm no fan of the fat man's gossip coverage, but truth-seekers don't always get to pick their missions.

The main problem for me is simple: a shitty analysis of stats is worse than no analysis at all - especially when presenting to a non-geek audience that is easily fooled, or is just looking to make imaginative new cock jokes. Gawker (see how I deflect from Doree?) makes failed assumptions on top of clumsy extrapolations of misguided extrapolations based on erroneous comparisons of a mockery of a sham. It doesn't even pass the sniff Denton's butt-plug test which is usually an easy "A" in blogging circles. I emailed Henry Copeland of Blogads since the numbers "in dispute" are his. Apparently Gawker didn't feel the need to ask him (or anyone) in "researching" the ins, outs, doubts and bouts of web traffic stats. Henry has responded on his blog and I'll let that speak for itself.

They could have at least asked the soon to be feted ex-Gawker editorial director who I'm sure would have been happy to share his knowledge and experience. Of course, I did:

YM: You once told me in a conversation that I am certain wasn't "off the record" that Blogads numbers are a good match with internally reported pageviews. If it was "off the record" please let me know. Otherwise I'm running with it for a post on YM.

Lock: Yup, feel free to quote me.

There you have it. The entire crux of their argument which seems to be "Blogads numbers are bullshit" falls apart on a painless no-ringing, low-vibrating note. Then again, are we to expect actual "journalism" from Gawker? Probably not. I apologize for having the expectation. Doree, can I get you a drink?

Introducing Pibb-o-nade

Wherein We Express An Opinion On The Subject Of Today's Article On Chelsea Peretti In The New York Observer

Boy, if there is someone who does a lesser job of floating our boat, it's Sarah Silverman. We, for one, are loath to make light of genocide, though we do understand the kids like to think they're out on the edge for having a laugh at a brotherman's expense. The Narrenfreiheit routine, uppity and amusing as it may be, is inconsequential tripe at the end of the day, not much more than a minor op-ed controversy gussied up in a hot little number. Chelsea Peretti, on the other hand... We'll be your business man, any day of the week.

Queen to Queen's Knight

Blottered vs. McSweeneys.org

In This Corner: Weegee Board Comments

In That Corner: I Hate To Bother You Mr. Gergen, But Won't You Please Pull On My Feet A Little?

On The Mezzanine: Naked Raygun - "Walk In Cold"

Metrocard

Jihad-Free Blog

The famous French painter of ballet dancers (84 down and out) was prone to feeding force with bread crumbs of so-called life-changing moments, often in uncontrolled portions. Adding a grain silo of fuel to the fire is one way to leaven the stakes while keeping warm, but eventually someone will come along and piss cold rain on that ashen pile of perceived memories. Sunrise conspires with second chances as the adagio beat of oil-drums resumes. The material milking, kowtowing and tipping never end and it would take minefields of manure shoved down our throats to deplete the oxygen supply.

Anyone got a light?

Bible Rewrite Project

And now back to The Bible Rewrite Project...

NOTE: Original Text appears in Italics. Rewrite follows in Plain Text.

Genesis 22

Abraham Is Tested

And it came to pass after these things, that God tested Abraham and said unto him, "Abraham!" And he said, "Behold, here I am." And He said, "Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah, and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of." And Abraham rose up early in the morning and saddled his ass, and took two of his young men with him and Isaac his son; and he cleaved the wood for the burnt offering, and rose up and went unto the place of which God had told him. Then on the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes, and saw the place afar off. And Abraham said unto his young men, "Abide ye here with the ass; and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to you." And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering, and laid it upon Isaac his son; and he took the fire in his hand and a knife, and they went both of them together. And Isaac spoke unto Abraham his father and said, "My father!" And he said, "Here am I, my son." And he said, "Behold the fire and the wood; but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?" And Abraham said, "My son, God will provide Himself a lamb for a burnt offering." So they went both of them together.

Abraham Is Tested

Nate tested Abraham, and said to him, "Abraham!" Abraham said, "Here I am." Nate said, "Take now your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love. And go to the land of Moriah. Take your knife and cut him into the shape of an animal. He will become the animal offering you will give on the altar in worship, on one of the mountains I will show you. What animal will you choose?" Abraham said, "A cat, Nate." So Abraham got up early in the morning and skinned a cat (see picture above). He would use this skin to sew to his son. He took two of his young men with him and his son Isaac. He cut wood for the burnt offering. And he went to the place where Nate told him to go. Abraham looked up on the third day and saw the place far away. He said to his young men, "Stay here with the donkey. I and the boy will go to that place and worship, and return to you." Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and had Isaac carry it. He took in his hand the fire and the knife. And the two of them walked on together. Then Isaac said to Abraham, "My father!" Abraham answered, "Here I am, my son." Isaac said, "See, here is the fire and the wood. But where is the lamb for the burnt offering?" Abraham said, "God will provide for Himself a lamb for the offering, my son." So the two of them walked on together.

And they came to the place which God had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there, and laid the wood in order, and bound Isaac his son and laid him on the altar upon the wood. And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son. And the angel of the LORD called unto him out of heaven and said, "Abraham, Abraham!" And he said, "Here am I." And He said, "Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto him; for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, from Me." And Abraham lifted up his eyes and looked; and behold, behind him a ram caught in a thicket by his horns. And Abraham went and took the ram, and offered him up for a burnt offering in the stead of his son. And Abraham called the name of that place Jehovahjireh [that is, The LORD will provide]; as it is said to this day, "In the mount of the LORD it shall be seen."

Then they came to the place that Nate told them about. Abraham built the altar there, and set the wood in place. Then he tied rope around his son Isaac, and laid him upon the wood on the altar. And Abraham put out his hand and took the knife to begin to start carving his son. But Nate called to him from heaven, and said, "Abraham! Abraham!" And Abraham said, "Here I am." Nate said, "Do not put out your hand against the boy. Do nothing to him. For now I know that you fear Me. You have not kept from Me your son, your only son." Then Abraham looked and saw a ram behind him, with his horns caught in the bushes. Abraham went and took the ram, and gave him as a burnt gift instead of his son. Abraham gave that place the name "Nate will give us what we need." And it is said to this day, "On the mountain of Nate it will be given."

And the angel of the LORD called unto Abraham out of heaven the second time and said, "By Myself have I sworn, saith the LORD, for because thou hast done this thing and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven and as the sand which is upon the seashore; and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies. And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed, because thou hast obeyed My voice." So Abraham returned unto his young men, and they rose up and went together to Beersheba; and Abraham dwelt at Beersheba.

Nate called to Abraham from heaven a second time. He said, "I have promised by Myself, says Nate, because you have done this and have not kept from Me your son, your only son, I will bring good to you. I will add many to the number of your children and all who come after them, like the stars of the heavens and the sand under the sea. They will take over the cities of those who hate them. Good will come to all the nations of the earth by your children and their children's children. Because you have obeyed My voice." So Abraham returned to his young men. And they got up and went with him to Beersheba. Abraham made his home there.

And it came to pass after these things, that it was told Abraham, saying, "Behold Milcah, she hath also borne children unto thy brother Nahor: Huz his firstborn, and Buz his brother, and Kemuel the father of Aram, and Chesed and Hazo, and Pildash and Jidlaph and Bethuel." And Bethuel begot Rebekah. These eight Milcah bore to Nahor, Abraham's brother. And his concubine, whose name was Reumah, she bore also Tebah and Gaham, and Thahash and Maachah.

Later it was told to Abraham, "Milcah also has given birth to the children of your brother Nahor: Uz the first-born, Buz his brother, Kemuel the father of Aram, Chesed, Hazo, Pildash, Jidlaph, and Bethuel." Bethuel became the father of Rebekah. Milcah gave birth to these eight by Nahor, Abraham's brother. And Reumah, the woman he kept who acted as his wife, gave birth to Tebah, Gaham, Tahash, and Maacah.

I Hate To Say It, But

Thy Verse created like thy Theme sublime,
In Number, Weight, and Measure, needs not Rhime.
Some Guy, 1674

Sketch is to standup what Guisewhite is to Behrle, whose cross-border appeal, I might add, I regret to be pushing below the fold right now.
(Actually, that honor went to Kaptain Kaveman here, it would seem.)
In any event, our new-found friend's done gone and upped the ante; yous better gets to posting, my son.
(Who knew aged and wizened and grizzeled would be for the dogs.
Death is a bummer, but also: deliverance; who cares if there's no god. Thoughts on the colon, semi-colon?)
All that being said (and done):
this here gent should be makin' us and all of Young Manhattan feel like the bunch of ivy-league twinkie boys we are.
There, i said it.

Money, please.

Your Pre-Algebra: Remonstrations

A sphere it is...a blogosphere!

Yesterday I received a package with 12 handwritten letters and photographs from students at P.S. 345 in East New York for my donation that enabled them to purchase non-fiction readers which will help with literacy and history studies. (From Columbus to Jefferson, this is for you Don Geiss!) For any project at Donors Choose that you make a minimum contribution of $100, they arrange this "thank you" package once it is fully funded. As the moral comp-ass/weather vain/barackobameter of the NYC blogerati, I urge you all to make a difference today. I have.

On that hope-for-children note, Amanda Stern moderates a three-kid panel that reviews three new works of Jewish-themed young adult fiction.

On that Hebraic note, Eli Valley gives Batman and Robin a Jewish maker-over.

On that crusading note, I've gone on two morning runs this week. My fatblogging mission has begun.

On that load-of-crap note, I would like to sincerely apologize to Emily of Gawker for my colleague's remark here. 99 is a real asshole. So, you free tonight?

And on that stercus accidit note, as promised, here's a mildly-retarded looking picture of me taken around 1973-4. Apparently my dad and I were wrestling when he "accidently" threw me out of a window. I shrugged it off, badass that I was, and didn't see a doctor for another week. Then they put me in this ridiculous sling which made it hard to drink on the neighbor's porch with old people.

Purple Ninja of the Lake

"Learn From My Mistakes, Man..."

Tough Love, American Style

Ten Days of (It's Like Christmas in) July

From First to Worst

No Points for Second Place

Third Wheel

Fourth Down, Stick 'em Up

Take the Fifth and Shove It

The Sixth Sense

Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven

Tragic Eighth Ball

Bottom of the Ninth, Foreign Bases Loaded, Full Countdown

Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out

Life in Gitmo!!

Hey

I'm one of the new guys. I do crap like this here. Sometimes they are funny. Only sometimes. It's a thrill to be on board.

YM Expansion: I wanted somebody to rub my neck

It was almost a year ago when YM officially became a group blog. Chris Gage has long since departed this scene for marital indifference and Sac stays low preferring to hang his fruits in the comments. 99 holds his own, usually about 2 inches from my face, and one dear friend constantly tells me, "you have to get rid of that Bible guy." He Who Cannot Be Linked (The Fuzz), YM's director of recruitment, comes through on his promise to spill new blood on our hands. Welcome Jim Behrle and Nick Sylvester. Their participation is as unconditional, unregulated and unwarranted as everything else here.

Harry Potter Spoiler

From the G Train. Where all good spoilers live.

Die-for Phone

Pls send help.